


Futile Devices

by unrealistically



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alcoholism, M/M, Semi-Slow Burn, Short Story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrealistically/pseuds/unrealistically
Summary: Only three years after Oliver's departure, the Perlmans are invited to visit him in the US, where Oliver and his soon-to-be wife reside.Elio decides against it at first, until a midnight phone call ensures that Oliver has developed a bad habit ever since he left Italy.





	1. Part I: Phone Calls and Bad Habits

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I just recently watched this movie, and I plan on reading the book as well. This experience was an emotional roller coaster for me, and I wanted to write a little something about my new favorite movie. Hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Any misinformation about the characters, locations, etc, please inform me so I can fix it, thanks! I'm still a bit new to CMbYN in general.

It seemed like the hottest night of his entire life, which wasn't odd at all, being that it was June, a month associated with constant sweating, mosquito bites and hot summer nights. The loud ticking of the clock that hung on the wall behind Elio made a raspy, yet distinct chime, indicating that it was now two in the morning. Elio never preferred to sleep in his room during the summer season, partially because of the lack of a cooling system in there. An open window wasn't enough for him to be cooled enough to pass out. He was laying on his side on the living room floor, in front of the home's air conditioning system, in order for him to sleep in comfort.

Of course, he would also dread sleeping in the same room that he used to share with Oliver, knowing that Oliver was gone. Post Oliver's leaving, when Elio would sleep in his bed, he would try and imagine Oliver in his presence. For example, he'd try to imagine the sound of Oliver snoring away, like he usually did when they used to share the room.

Elio's face moved into a smile, as he reminisced, yet the smile was gone within a second.

He shuffled around, moving to his other side, trying to find comfort. Elio buried his nose into his-well, Oliver's shirt sleeve. He always wore Oliver's button-up to sleep. Never during the day, or even for special occasions, such as a guest dinner, where the shirt would deem necessary. He didn't find wearing the shirt to be as satisfying during the day, but he would never function without it when it was dark out. Elio hadn't grown as tall as he would have hoped, so the button-up still reached just above his knees, and the sleeves went past his fingers as well.

He also wore it at night, to avoid worrying his parents any more than he did already about his feelings regarding Oliver. They knew about the relationship, and they understood that he was in pain, yet, they expected their son to have moved on already.

Well, the mother hoped that would be the case, but the father knew it was more complicated than just any old breakup.

He told them that he was fine, that he was over it. Everyone, including his parents, knew that this was simply untrue, yet no protests were made.

Elio felt a warm tear travel down his cheek, which didn't travel far, as he hastily moved his arm up to wipe it away. He then felt the need for his music player and headphones, which he left on the table behind him. He got up, feeling the loss of the cold breeze as soon as he removed himself from the front of the air conditioning system. He stretched his arms, and slowly approached the table, where he turned his music player on and went with the first song that was displayed on his playlist. He placed the headphones over his ears and walked back to his original spot.

After the first minute of some classical song, Elio was already in his temporary calm state. Music made him feel at ease, even at the worst of times.

Elio didn't get to enjoy the rest of the song, as he drifted to a slumber.

* * *

He woke with a slight gasp, as the loud and disruptive sound of the phone rang. Elio's eyes shot up towards the clock, which showed that it was only five in the morning. Before he could get up from his sleeping position, he squinted as the lights turned on in the room. He heard footsteps walking towards the phone. He turned his gaze and confirmed that his father was already awake, as he picked the phone up and held it to his ear. Elio took his headphones out of his own ears, curious about who would be calling the house at a time like this.

"Perlman's residence," he said groggily, using his other hand to rub his eyes. Elio concludes that his father must have woken up within the past half hour, who still showed signs of sleepiness.

Only a couple seconds go by, and Elio sees his father perk up as he listens to the caller. Elio raises a brow as he sits up, focusing his attention solely on his father on the phone.

"Oliver!" Mr. Perlman then says in a friendly manner. "How have you been?"

Even the name made him feel as if he couldn't breathe. He felt his eyes itch, wanting to tear up, as he quickly got up from his bundle of blankets, and approached his father, who gave his son a warm smile. His father and Oliver started to converse, as Elio carefully listened to his dad's responses, not being able to hear Oliver's voice from the phone. Elio brought his thumb up to his mouth and started to bite at the nail, an act of nervousness that he had recently developed.

He'd developed some new bad habits as a result of his former lover leaving.

"It's been too long, have you been busy in the US?" His father asked, while using his free hand to grab at his son's arm, reminding him not to bite his nails. Elio reluctantly retracted his thumb from his mouth as he continued to watch.

"That's great," Mr. Perlman continued, in the process of drinking from his coffee mug that was cooling down on the table. "Not that we love to talk to you, but what's the occasion? Anything special coming up?"

Again, silence took over the room as his dad listened to what Oliver had to say, Elio standing next to him, yet unable to hear the voice of the man he still loved. Elio made no action to reach for the phone, as he was a bit frightened at the fact of being able to talk to him again. It had been, what, three years since their last phone call? 

"That's splendid!" Mr. Perlman spoke. He was very careful about what to say, considering the fact that his son was right beside him. Knowing their history, Mr. Perlman knew what and what not to say around his son. Elio developed new levels of sensitivity.

"Well, that sounds like it would be difficult to accomplish.." Mr. Perlman then started to speak in a different manner, as if he was contemplating something. Elio's gaze on the hardwood floor beneath them moved, as he curiously peaked up at his father's facial expressions, which showed concern, as well as confusion.

The room is again filled with silence, as his father continues to listen to Oliver. Elio grimaced, wanting to know what his father was hearing that Elio himself wasn't.

"It's an awfully big decision, you know," Mr. Perlman said. Elio tapped on his shoulder, curious as to what this 'decision' may be. His father only responded with his palm, signaling him to wait until he was done talking to Oliver. Ten or so seconds pass, which he then looked to Elio, using his free hand to pretend to scribble, meaning that he was asking for something to write with, along with a notepad. Elio quickly got the idea and rushed towards the cabinet nearby to retrieve a navy-blue pen, along with a yellow notepad. He brought it to his father as quickly as he could.

Once handed to him, his father started to write some things down, Elio taking note of everything that was being displayed.

_8109 Peach Valley Drive, Sonoma CA_

Elio bit his lip at the name, one of the words resurfacing a certain memory.

"I have it down," his father continued, clicking the pen closed and setting it aside along with the notepad. "I'll let you know as soon as possible."

His father was about to hang up the phone, but as he was moving it away from his ear, Oliver distinctly said something, in which Elio nor his father didn't quite catch. Mr. Perlman brought the phone back to his ear, apologizing and asking him to repeat what he had said.

A few seconds pass, silence still filling the air, until Mr. Perlman then turned to his son, handing him the phone.

"Oliver wants to speak with you."

Elio paled at that moment, contemplating whether or not this would be good for his health. Sure, he'd been waiting for the moment to catch up with Oliver for the longest time, but Elio was so in shock, and still in pain, remembering the fact that he and Oliver would never be together anyway, morals being a major obstacle between them. Hands shaking, he hesitantly reached for the phone, taking it form his father's grasp as he slowly brought it up to his ear. 

"Elio?" A voice asked. The voice was almost unrecognizable, as it was gravelly, and low, compared to the past years. Yet, Elio identified the playfulness behind the voice, one he had familiarized himself with for the six weeks that he had been able to, and knew it was the one and only.

"Peach- I mean, fuck," Elio stuttered as he starts to lose a grip on how to speak, mind still set on the whole peach fiasco. He reddens as his dad gives him a weird look, and Elio hears the husky laughing on the other end of the phone, making him scratch his head in shame.

"What was that, Elio?" Oliver had asked, laughter still in his voice.

Elio brought his thumb up to his mouth again, starting to bite at it. His dad narrowed his eyes at him again, but left the room regardless, wanting to give his son some privacy.

"Forget about it," Elio finally said, voice still shaken. He looked around, needing to confirm if his dad was away, and when he was, he brought the phone back to speaking range. "What have you been up to?"

"I was just talking to your dad about something," he said, purposely leaving some information out. Elio furrowed his brow as he impatiently waited for Oliver to finish.

"Well?" He asked, while biting his thumbnail.

Due to his uncontrollable shaking, his thumb then slips, fingernail driving into the gum above one of his front teeth used to bite on it. He winces and whispers obscenities as he tastes silver, and he immediately knows that his mouth was now bleeding, not too harshly. If anything, it was just an annoyance rather than an injury.

"You okay, Elio?" Oliver asked, obvious concern in his tone. Elio warmed up hearing that, as he quickly reached for a napkin, and used it to blot where the bleeding was coming from.

"Yes," He replied hotly, setting the napkin back down. "So, you were saying?"

Some time passes, even though it was just a couple seconds of silence, it seemed infinite.

"I felt the need to.." Oliver started to say. "Return a favor, for you. Also, your parents as well." Elio raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Keeping it short, I want you and your parents to come visit me here in the US. We-I mean, I thought it would be a good idea to return the favor of hospitality. You guys took me in for six weeks, and it was.. a very life-changing experience. In many ways. It doesn't feel right not doing something in order to pay you and your family back." Elio started to shake again, and he pinched himself in order to maintain his nerves.

Again, a silence dwells between the two.

"It's been three years, right?" Elio finally asks. Oliver confirmed that it, in fact, had been three years since they last saw each other in person. "Why is this now coming up? Why not two years ago? Maybe even one year ago?" He asked again, clearing his throat in order to disguise his voice that slightly cracked during his speaking.

Before Oliver could come up with an answer, a new voice is introduced in the background. Everything around Elio starts to slow down.

"I'm home!" he heard a female voice say. Elio starts to shake again, listening to whoever this may be.

"Oh, hey baby," Oliver replies back. Although Oliver and the woman's voice was muffled, Elio still heard it. He had a great sense of hearing. He used his ears for nearly everything he did, he used them for guidance in his piano-playing, used them to listen to his classical selection of music. He closes his eyes as he feels another tear fall onto the table, and he wipes it away. He uses the same napkin he previously used in order to wipe his eyes of any excess drops of moisture. He patiently waits for Oliver and this mystery woman to finish their conversation, unable to hear now.

Elio taps his fingers on the wooden table, in order to fill the room with noise, any noise. He hated the silence.

Soon, Oliver's voice finally returns to the phone, giving Elio some relief.

"I thought you were leaving again," he said, sniffling.

"Of course not," Oliver replied.

Elio bit his lip as he contemplated which question to ask him. He had so many to choose from.

"What's her name?" He asked, genuine curiosity taking over. He clicked the navy-blue pen nearby, awaiting his response.

"Who? Oh. That's Nancy, ehm, my wife. Well, soon-to-be, she's my fiancee as of right now, but the wedding is soon to come." Elio's lip curled, and his face turned into a sour expression, and he knew exactly why.

"Are you happy?" Elio asked, not caring whether he was making Oliver uncomfortable or not. His mind was everywhere, and his curiosity was strong enough to be an icebreaker of the iceberg that had been formed ever since they drifted apart.

"Of course I am," Oliver whispered, seeming slightly offended. "I love my fiancee."

Elio, already distraught, felt the knife in his heart push into him even more. He just wanted to disintegrate.

"That's great," he concluded, voice practically dying midway through. He started to hear Oliver protest, maybe ask him if he was okay like he usually would, but Elio interrupted, as he just stared at the notepad that was still residing beside him, which displayed (what Elio assumed to be) Oliver's new house address.

"We'll think about it," Elio said finally. "Later."

He slammed the phone onto the receiver, hanging up the call.

* * *

Elio walked up the dreaded stairs into his room, where he changed out of Oliver's shirt in an instant, switching into one of his many long black sweatshirts and a pair of fuzzy sweatpants. He wiped the tears that were starting to come back again.

He dove onto his bed, face buried in the pillow, sobbing into it.

Elio's father went to talk to his wife, Annella, about what Oliver had proposed.

They were both reluctant, yet wouldn't mind visiting him.

They thought this would be beneficial, not just for themselves, but for their son and Oliver himself mostly. Maybe they'd be able to have some closure together, right?

* * *

Elio found himself staying up late like he used to.

The clock chimed at midnight, the peaceful outside sky was pitch dark, and the skies were crowded with stars. Elio looked out the window towards the beautiful scenery, considering his advantages, and possibly thought of the idea of getting into photography more than he already had. Photography was a hobby of his, but it wasn't top of the list compared to his songwriting, instrument playing and reading.

Elio was curled up on the couch, a fan blowing cold air his way, while he was reading I Promessi Sposi (The Betrothed). It was Italian historical fiction, which was something that always peaked Elio's interest. However, he found it hard to concentrate on what he was reading. As focused as he may have been as an individual, he found himself to become easily distracted lately. A trait he'd picked up not too long ago.

Elio, about to turn a page, was then abruptly removed from his state of peace, as he heard the phone start to ring. Setting down the book, he quickly got up in order to answer it, not wanting it to wake his parents up.

Although he got to the phone quickly, he hesitated to answer it. Because of the phone call that had happened that yesterday morning, he had yet been able to touch the phone. Even when Marzia or Chiara called, he told his parents to have them leave a message.

Elio brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hello?"

His answer is proceeded by shuffling on the other line, no voice attached. Elio kept the phone to his ear as he tried to listen of any voices, any idea on who was calling. Nearly a minute passes, and Elio seemed to give up, as he mumbled a farewell and started to remove the phone away. Before he could do so fully, however, a voice introduced itself.

"Can ya hear me, Elio?" The voice asked, speech somewhat sloppy. Slurred, that might've been the better word. Elio didn't recognize who it was.

"Yeah, I can now," Elio started, having questions as to who this person was, and why they were calling at such an odd hour. "Who is this?"

"Oh c'mon," the voice continued, speech painfully loud. The voice seemed tense as well. "I know we haven't talked in a shit-long while, well, in person, but.. fuck that hurt, man. You don't remember my voice?"

It took Elio a little bit to understand why this person was so offended when he couldn't identify who they were, but, he soon knew who it was. And that's where his heart started to beat faster.

"Oliver?" He asked, nearly whispering. His face started to heat up, partially guilty that he hadn't been able to identify his voice immediately. "I'm sorry."

He got a response of rough laughter, which made Elio's skin crawl, just a little.

"You're apologizing?" He asked, as Elio heard him take a swig of something. Elio's brow furrowed in suspicion. "If anything, I should be the one apologizing. For everything. Especially leaving."

Though Elio agreed to some degree, he didn't like the idea of Oliver taking the blame for something that he'd done three years ago.

"That's not something worth apologizing for," Elio justified, looking towards the hallway, in case his parents were up. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw nobody come through the entryway. "You had to leave, the six weeks were up."

"That's bullshit," Oliver barked back loudly. "I could've stayed, man, I could've stayed, I could've.." He started to quiet down, as he was then mumbling and repeating the same words, raising Elio's concern meter.

"Oliver," Elio said firmly, needing him to concentrate. Oliver didn't answer, just continued to mumble words that Elio couldn't understand. "Oliver!"

"That's not my name," Oliver responded. "Remember? Remember what our thing was?"

Elio couldn't forget. It was the one phrase that made the two of them official. The phrase that confirmed to both of them that they were going to be inseparable.

_Call me by your name and I'll call you by mine._

"Elio," Elio whispered into the phone, feeling his eyes start to wet.

"Oliver," Oliver responded back, voice low.

The silence that followed up was necessary, they both needed it, to reflect back on the memories they made together. Elio was recalling the times that they had first met, where Oliver passed out on Elio's old bed, while Elio just stared at him, surprised at the lack of.. maturity in the American. That's what intrigued Elio though. Elio had never been exposed to such a bright spirit like Oliver before, and he found being in Oliver's company... different, compared to the other doctoral students that were taken in by his parents. It was heartwarming, having a person who admired him, who noticed and appreciated everything he did.

Elio thought back to when he was having a nosebleed during lunch, and when Oliver was concerned enough to check up on him. Elio knew that the nosebleed wasn't anything serious, but he appreciated the fact that Oliver came to comfort him.

The sound of what seemed to be a multitude of noisy cars brought Elio back to reality.

"Hey," he started quietly, wondering if the sound came from his area or through the phone. "Where are you right now?"

"Payphone," Oliver responded simply.

"And you don't sound like the soberest person in the world," Elio nearly whispered, mainly to himself, but Oliver heard, because he started to have a laughing fit.

"I'd sure hope so, drank a fuck-ton of Hennessy," Oliver responded. Elio flinched at his bluntness, noting that he never acted this way, even when he was drunk. "If I wasn't drunk right now, then I'd be suing that bitch who sold me the bottle."

" _Che cosa_?" Elio responded instantly. He said his next words carefully, needing Oliver to understand what he was trying to say. "How much did you drink?"

"What the fuck's this, twenty questions?" Oliver snapped at him, which silenced Elio. A few seconds pass, without words being exchanged. "Fuck, I'm sorry baby-fuck, I didn't mean to say that either, shit."

" _Va bene..._ " Elio finally said, feeling the need to take matters into his own hands. "Look around for street signs or something like that that they have in the US. You know, where it says the street." Oliver complied and left the phone for a minute to look around. He came back and let Elio know where he was, curious as to why he was asking. Elio wrote the address down on the notepad in front of him.

"Okay, good," he started to say. "Now, can you tell me Nancy's phone number?" Elio proceeded, as he prepared the pen in his hand, and lingered the tip over the notepad, ready to start writing down the series of numbers.

"Oh," Oliver responded. "I don't need... I don't want her help right now." Elio raised a brow in confusion.

"Why not?" Elio asked him. "Unless you have a friend that I can contact, I just want you indoors and in a bed." Elio's heart was beating fast, he was worried for Oliver. He felt uneasy, knowing that Oliver wasn't in a safe area and shit-faced drunk, as it seemed.

"This is normal routine for me," Oliver started to say. "Every time Nancy and I get in a fight, I just fuck off somewhere and drink. Been happenin' often lately." Elio shook his head, feeling overwhelmed with disappointment, yet, he felt bad.

"You can't just drink your problems away, Oliver," Elio said simply. Legs feeling weak, he moved to sit on the table. "And I don't want you dying an early death because of this."

"I know, I know," Oliver responded knowingly, as if he's had this conversation a thousand times before. "I've been finding myself drinking so much but, I do... I do want to quit." Elio frowned, realizing that Oliver could potentially be an alcoholic.

"When did you start drinking so severely?" Elio asked sincerely, pen in hand and prepared to write some notes down.

"If I'm being honest," Oliver said before letting out a small hiccup. "Maybe a couple months after I came back to the US. It isn't something that I do too publicly, Nancy even thinks that I'm at my parent's house right now, which obviously, I ain't." Elio tilted his head to the side, writing everything he said down, taking note of the fact that Nancy is unaware.

"Any reason in particular?" He asked afterward. Oliver hummed in response.

"Ain't it obvious?" He responded. Elio looked down, pen in hand, as it was shaking uncontrollably.

Silence takes over again, as Elio is reading over what he had written down, assessing it. Oliver then speaks up.

"You remind me of something, Elio. You want to know what that is?" Elio bit his lip.

"What would that be?" Elio simply asked, clicking the pen closed and setting it aside.

"You're a peach," Oliver said at first. "I don't mean that in a sarcastic way at all. You're sweet. Easily lovable. Incredibly soft skin. Fuck, you're just... sensational." Elio was burning up by then, and he let out a shaky breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"So you miss me?" Elio asked, and again, was met with crude laughter.

"Is that even a question?" Oliver responded. "Of course I do, why do you think I called? I miss listening to your voice, I miss listening to your music, I miss everything about you." Elio started to pant, at a loss for words, with all of this information hitting him all at once. He sniffled as he started to cry again.

"No, no," Oliver responded in a comforting tone. "Don't cry.. Fuck." Elio did the exact opposite.

So Oliver waited patiently, as his friend silently sobbed, tearing up a bit himself as well. Although, he probably didn't really know why his head was all over the place.

It took a while, but Elio managed to maintain himself.

"You know why I had to leave right?" Oliver asked him, quietly and slowly. Elio nodded.

"Yes," he only responded.

Silence took over then.

Soon, Elio then hears another voice on the other end, which didn't belong to Oliver. He heard Oliver mumble a response back to them.

"I'm afraid I'll have to cut our conversation short," Oliver said through the phone. "Someone's needing the phone." Elio continued to bite at his thumbnail, feeling disappointed.

"Please," Elio then said, still wanting Oliver in a safe place. "Tell me you're going to throw that liquor bottle away, and get a cab ride home."

Elio only hears a groan, and he narrows his eyes.

" _Per piacere_ ," Elio begged.

"Okay, okay," Oliver responded finally. "I will." Elio breathed a sigh of relief.

He was then expecting Oliver to hang up.

"Before I go, I need an answer," Oliver had said hastily. "Have you and your family decided to come to the US?"

Had it not been for this conversation, he would have declined in an instant. His gaze shifted towards his address, that was now pinned against the wall.

"Yeah, yeah," He concluded quickly, feeling rushed. "We agreed to go."

"Amazing," Oliver said, with what seemed to be genuine excitement. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Before Elio could say anything, like playfully ridicule him for using the disrespectful farewell word, the phone was cut off of any audio. Elio put the phone onto the receiver, feeling disappointed again.

Elio pulled the shirt sleeves of Oliver's button-up down, and moved to lie down on the couch, the decently loud whirr of the fan keeping him slightly occupied.

He looked up at the ceiling, mind overwhelmed with a series of emotions.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian translations may be completely wrong, and I apologize, but here's the translations:
> 
> Che cosa - what
> 
> Va bene - okay
> 
> Per piacere - please


	2. Part II: Preparation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU HAVE READ THE FIRST CHAPTER BEFORE 3/6, THIS MESSAGE IS IMPORTANT:  
> I made many changes, some subtle, some not so.
> 
> \- Initially, this story was going to be set during the winter, however, I changed the season to summer because who wants to go to California when it's during the winter season? Unless it's hot there regardless of the season...  
> \- I also changed the city/state address of Oliver's home.. over six times.  
> \- Removed some things that I felt was unnecessary and overall bad.

Much to Elio's disappointment, only a few phone calls from Oliver came for them ever since he drunkenly called his home that midnight.

Oliver did call their house occasionally, but he didn't seem as outspoken, not very open _,_ like he had been with Elio the week before. Oliver hadn't strayed from discussing necessary details in order for the Perlman's to successfully arrive at his home in California. He kept reminding the Perlman's that his house wasn't nearly as fancy as their own. It was located a few minutes away from a beautiful and decently isolated beach, sure, but the house wasn't too huge. The Perlman's reassured him that they would be satisfied just being under a roof.

Mr. Perlman left the phone early, needing to attend to some final paperwork that needed to be finished by the time they left. Mrs. Perlman was able to speak to Nancy during the last couple minutes of the phone call soon after. They chatted for some moments, before his mother then handed the phone to Elio, wanting him to meet Nancy. Elio purposely left himself out, shaking his head silently while practically hiding behind the couch. The idea of talking to Oliver's soon-to-be still gave him a distasteful feeling all around.

His mother narrowed her eyes at him as she continued to talk to Nancy.

Of course, he felt bad, being that Nancy would also be taking him and his family in. The least he could've done was be friendly with a nice greeting.

He just wasn't up for it.

However, his curiosity took over again after his mother hung up the phone.

"What was she like?" He asked, already feeling impatient. Mrs. Perlman walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast, he stumbled off the couch and followed right behind her.

"You know it's rude to refuse to talk to someone," his mother said knowingly, reaching into the cupboards to grab a few plates. "Especially since she agreed to let us stay at her and Oliver's place for a whole month, need I remind you." Elio pursed his lips, feeling even more guilty.

" _Scusa.._ " he replied, scratching his head. His mother shrugged as she went for the fridge, grabbing some ingredients before shutting the door.

"She seemed genuine," his mother then said, preparing her cutting board. "She said she was very excited to meet us when we got there, and that her and Oliver had a lot of fun things planned for our month stay."

Elio only nodded in response, leaving the kitchen moments after.

* * *

He met Marzia and Chiara down by the pool later that day.

"A whole month?" Chiara exclaimed, followed by a frown on her face and her hands on her hips. Marzia shared a similar reaction to the unsatisfying surprise, who shook her head and crossed her arms, wanting an explanation.

"Well, yeah," Elio explained as he was sat on the granite edge of the pool, sheet music in hand. "Who goes to a country across the world and only stays for less than that?"

He avoided their gaze, as he looked down, dipping only his feet in the bitterly cold water. The cold was tolerable, if not, necessary. Temperatures at the Perlman household was always exceeding in heat, and the pool would usually be busily occupied by friends and family of the Perlman's who happened to stop by for a visit. Elio found it surprising that the pool area was unoccupied, not including himself and his two other friends.

"Understandable.." Marzia murmured, but was met with a light slap on the arm by Chiara.

"It is not," Chiara responded. "What are we going to do without you for a whole summer month?" She then sat across from Elio, and dipped her bare feet into the pool as well, removing her sunglasses and looking at him expectantly. Marzia sat beside her and did the same. Elio grinned as he looked back at them, setting his sheet music aside.

"You act like I'm the only friend you hang out with," he said. "I won't make much a difference being gone." Marzia and Chiara protested immediately.

"Don't say that," Marzia chided, as she reached into her bag to pull out a bottle of sunscreen. "You know we love hanging out with you, especially since time to spend with each other is going to come to an end.. there's only a few months left until you have to return to school." Elio grimaced as he recalled his college years to come. He pinched the bridge of his nose, who couldn't believe the fact that he forgot about it.

Marzia reached across the pool to hand Elio the sunscreen, giving him a knowing look. He accepted in an instant, lathering himself in it.

"Volleyball isn't going to be the same," Chiara playfully whined as she continued to swish her feet into the cool water.

"We all know I'm the worst player," he shot back immediately, receiving a chuckle from Marzia and Chiara.

"Okay," Marzia chimed in. "Then who's going to play the beautiful piano when you're gone, hmm?" She questioned, reaching her hand into the water below her. Elio smirked as he turned to lie on his back, glad he had on a pair of sunglasses in order not to strain his eyes from the bright and vibrant sun.

Elio responded, "I suppose Chiara can play her usual Fur Elise," Marzia scoffed in a lighthearted manner while Chiara grinned.

"I'm glad you're starting to appreciate my piano skills," Chiara simply replied, still grinning. Elio tilted his head to look at her.

"It is the easiest song to play on the piano though," Elio joked, as he turned to look back up at the sun, closed his eyes and continued his sunbathing. Chiara and Marzia gave each other a devious look, as they quietly removed their feet from the water and the two girls went on either side of the pool. Before Elio could process what they were doing, he felt a push on his side, as he falls less than a foot before landing face first into freezing water. He shot up instantly, shouting of the sudden cold as his friends enjoy it, laughing.

He barred his teeth due to the cold as he stumbled to get out, rushing towards the towel hung up on the white lawn chair. He covered his body with it, glaring at the two, who were still chuckling. Chiara wiped a tear out of her eye, unable to contain herself.

"You let it happen to you everytime," Marzia said, laughter still in her voice. 

* * *

The thing that scared Elio the most out of this whole vacation plan, was not knowing what to expect.

The idea was that Oliver, his fiancée, and the Perlman family would spend some time together during the whole month of July. Elio didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed by the fact that they were staying for four weeks as opposed to the six weeks in which Oliver had stayed at their place.

During the initial phone call, Oliver emphasized on how excited he was to show them around, as he was now given the "tour guide guy role", as he had put it.

The month of June was coming to an end, and the date they were to leave was nearing, with just a couple days for them to pack before they had to head to the train station. As excited as his parents were to briefly return to the United States, Elio felt slightly opposite, the emotion of terror overwhelming his excitement.

It had been three years since his last physical encounter with Oliver, and it had been seven years since he had last been to the United States.

It only made him feel better, knowing he had reasons to justify his nervousness.

* * *

Elio found himself acting more unnecessarily ill-behaved, especially how he often snapped at his parents in frustration, like when they urged him each day to pack, and how they pestered him with American trivia, as they liked to call it. He would often get the questions wrong, where they asked about the common traditions and cultures that resided in America. This only boosted his frustrations.

He apologized shortly after his mini outbursts, obviously, not being able to handle the idea that his parents may come to the conclusion that their son might somehow despise them. It was a silly thing for Elio to think about, being that his parents loved him very much, no matter how petty he may have acted at the time.

"I wonder how sunny California is," his mother pondered as she overlooked her opened suitcase, a bottle of sunscreen in hand. The contents inside were mostly weather-appropriate clothing, some toiletries, and basic necessities. There was also a bright red first aid kit in the middle, which took up an excessive amount of storage space. It wasn't a surprise for her son, Elio only rolled his eyes seeing it.

"I doubt that we'll need the first aid kit," he countered as he bit into an apple, hearing the satisfying crunch of the layers. His mother shrugged as she set the bottle of sunscreen down in order to grab at it.

"You never know," she responded as she practically heaved it out of her suitcase. "It has everything! Bandages, band-aids, eye wash, stitches-"

"Which I am sure is completely unnecessary," Elio interrupted as he set his unfinished apple on a table nearby and went around the sofa, taking the first aid kit from his mother's hands. "Because I am convinced that Oliver has a bathroom, in which they have a first aid kit just like this one."

His mother gasped and put a hand over her chest.

"That first aid kit is one of a kind, made exclusively in France!" She countered, with her hands on her hips. Elio chuckled as he inspected the kit in his hands, making note of the surprisingly fancy engravement of the words _First Aid_ with a decent print of a white cross right below, and many illustrations of France-related things engraved all around.

"You're missing the point," he simply said, setting the first aid kit onto the table.

"Okay, okay," his mother said, dismissing him with a signal of her hand. "Don't you have some packing to do as well?"

Elio put his hands up, a sign of surrender, as he walked out of the living room and up the long staircase.

* * *

They were set to leave for the train tomorrow, early in the morning.

Elio finally managed to pack his things, his suitcase propped up against the wall. He looked outside of the window in front of him. His mother was doing some last touch ups for her garden, while their maid helped her in the process. 

Elio took a long sip of cold water, the afternoon heat being nearly overwhelming. He shifted his focus to his father and his aunt Marcella, who were conversing at the kitchen table nearby.

"How often would you like me to stop by here while you are away?" She asked, raising a glass of iced tea to her mouth, and soon setting it back down on the table in front of them.

"Very often won't be mandatory," his father responded, grabbing the pitcher of tea and refilling both his and Marcella's glasses. "We'll allow everyone to visit and use the house for whatever reason during the day, but I don't want the house occupied at night."

"I can stop by in the morning to unlock it, and after dark to lock it then?" She questioned, his father nodded in confirmation.

"That sounds great," Mr. Perlman noted. "I would have our maid do it, however, she tends to be forgetful at times." Mr. Perlman meant no insult by what he said. The maid was aging more than anyone else he had met, and her memory started to become less efficient. Marcella nodded, also understanding why.

Before either of them could say anything else, the shrill sound of the phone rang once again. In an instant, Elio removed himself from his seat on the window ledge and strode into the living room. He waited a few moments, wondering if anyone else would stop by to answer it. After seeing nobody come into the living room, he took matters into his own hands and picked the phone from it's receiver.

" _Pronto?_ " he asked the caller.

"Elio?" A voice asked back. "That you?"

Elio felt the familiar reactions of his body every time he heard that voice. His hands start to shake, his heart starts to beat faster than the average man, and he feels overwhelmingly flustered.

"Hi," he responded quietly, stuttering his word.

"You guys are leaving tomorrow, right?" Oliver asked simply.

"That's correct.." he murmured, holding the phone close. The pair were silent, both of them were lost in a train of thought. Just the sound of each other breathing would satisfy them, and normally Elio couldn't stand silence, yet with Oliver, it felt therapeutic.

"I can't wait to see you," Oliver then said, after the pause. "I haven't seen you in what feels like forever." Elio's face moved into a warm smile, which quickly erased itself.

"What about my parents?" He questioned. "I'm sure you're more excited to meet them than me?"

"Nonsense," Oliver responded sternly. "Don't put yourself down like that."

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Quit feeling the need to apologize," Oliver told him, with the same playful, yet forceful tone.

"Sorry," he said again, partially on purpose this time. He heard a groan on the other end of the call. This caused Elio to laugh, which then made Oliver do the same.

Elio liked this. It felt genuine.

"I can't wait to see you too," Elio said, scratching his head. "Well- my parents can't wait to see you also." Oliver chuckled at this.

"I'd sure hope so," he responded lightly. "What have you been up to?"

Elio pondered on what to respond with.

"Well.." he started to say. "I am enrolled in college, as of right now." Instantly, he heard Oliver let out a sound, like an exciting cheer.

"That's awesome," he exclaimed. "I'm proud of you Elio." Elio found himself grinning, starting to feel giddy. It was a foreign feeling for him.

"Thank you," he whispered, feeling his eyes start to wet again. He used his sweater sleeve, wiping it away. "I'm majoring in Piano Performance and acting." He bit his nail, awaiting Oliver's response, especially to his acting major.

"Acting?" Oliver replied incredulously. "You have never shown interest towards acting when I was there." Elio bit his lip to keep himself from smiling wide.

"I know," Elio said knowingly. "It's crazy how things can change so drastically in three years, huh?" Oliver didn't respond, as another session of silence took place between them. Elio looked towards the kitchen entrance and saw his father, who had been overlooking their conversation. Elio reddened as his father smirked and gave him a thumbs-up before retreating from the doorway. Elio rubbed the back of his neck, wanting to take care of something.

"Is Nancy there?" Elio asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, in the next room," Oliver replied dully, the tone of his voice changing drastically. "Why?"

"I'd like to say hi," he said softly. Elio then heard shuffling in the background, and then silence, as he waited.

It took a couple minutes, and Elio was convinced that nobody would come to the phone, until he heard a voice speak.

"Hello?" A voice asked. The pitch was high, and Elio noted of the feminine way that Nancy spoke, as if done on purpose.

"Hi," Elio said, again, stuttering the one word. "Nancy, yes?"

"That is me!" The voice said, again, very cheery. Elio found it somewhat odd, but he shook his head. Judging people based on simply a feature was something untolerated in his household, and rightfully so.

"It's nice to meet you, Nancy," he said slowly, careful about what to say. "How is the United States?" He heard Nancy giggle.

"It's a beautiful place, depending on where you go of course," she said lightheartedly. "Where we'll all be staying, I'd say it's lovely here. Amazing scenery, beaches, restaurants, you name it." Elio smiled at that, glad that they would be staying at a place where these places and activities would be common.

"Sounds lovely," he responded, feeling some weight being lifted off of his shoulders. Just some, not even much.

"Oli has told me so much about the Perlman family," she said shortly after. "And I heard you even play the piano and write your own music?" Elio nodded.

"It is a hobby I partake in," he said simply. "Soothes me. Calms me down in a way." Paranoid, he looked over his shoulder, and was relieved not to find anyone listening in on his conversation like his father had.

"Oliver did say you play beautiful music," she emphasized. "Said it always made him feel at peace, isn't that right?" Her voice faded as (Elio assumed) she turned to look at Oliver, wanting confirmation. Elio felt his heart beat faster again.

"That's nice to hear," Elio responded, finding himself grinning more times today than within the past year. "I can't wait to meet you in person, Nancy."

"Me too!" She exclaimed. "We're all going to have so much fun." Before she could say anything more, Elio heard an odd sound in the background, like a wheeze.

"Don't worry," she said quickly. "That's just my teapot. Anyway, I have to attend to that, I'll see you soon, yeah?" Before Elio could bid a farewell, her voice disappears. Elio shuffles his feet as he keeps the phone to his ear, wanting to say goodbye to Oliver, at least.

He felt relieved when he heard someone pick the phone up again.

"I guess we'll have to cut our phone call short again, huh?" Oliver asked him.

"Guess so.." Elio replied, finding himself biting at his nailbeds again.

"I wanted to ask you," Oliver then asked out of the blue. "I called you about one, two weeks ago, right?"

"You did," Elio said, recalling his conversation with him just nearly two weeks ago. He specifically remembered his surprise to Oliver's bluntness when under the influence. "You were.. very open when we spoke."

"I was, wasn't I?" Oliver had asked. "I'm sorry that you had to experience that, sometimes I can't control what I say when I drink." Elio ran a trembling hand through his curly hair, not sure how to feel about this.

"You don't have to apologize," Elio sympathized, not trying to mimic the same way Oliver had told him. Neither one of them spoke.

"You guys are going to love it here," Oliver said, breaking the silence. "I just know it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian translations in case you wanted to know (again, may be inaccurate!)
> 
>  
> 
> Scusa - sorry  
> Pronto - hello?


	3. Part III: Odd Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the late update, I'm so bad.

Everything felt completely foreign to him.

It was as if the moment he took his one small, trembling step onto the top of the airstair, everything around him changed. Perhaps it could've just been the fact that he had sat in a rather uncomfortable airplane chair for sixteen hours, and had nothing to eat but unsatisfactory snacks. However, he still felt that he was in a different world, as he overlooked his surroundings.

Down the stairs led to a wide entryway, where he presumed they would leave out of, and took a mental note of the two burly guys who stood right outside of the entryway. They wore a pair of sunglasses on their face and had a stern, emotionless look on their face. Elio had predicted them to be the bodyguards of their section of the airport.

Needless to say, he felt grateful to finally be able to breathe, even if the air he was breathing wasn't the same as what he was used to in Italy.

The lighting seemed brighter in the atmosphere. More lively, he'd rather prefer to say. He could see through the glass of the airport and saw many men, women, and children, all talking amongst themselves.

He fetched his sunglasses out of a small pocket in his luggage, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude that there was indeed a bright sun shining down on them. Elio didn't pack much clothing that didn't suit hot weather.

He was instantly met with a noise, associated with loudness. Like a nonstop static, except instead of a buzzing, it was the chatter of many foreign voices near him, behind him rather. It wasn't long until he saw a swarm of people descend the stairs in front of him. He noted of their rather loud chattiness.

Very lively, Elio confirmed as he moved to the side of the airplane's stairs, letting the rest of the passengers to exit with ease.

Elio extended his arms above his head, pulling on them in a stretch, in attempt to give them relief from his stiffness from the plane. Before he could release another breath, he jumped, startled by a tap on his shoulder.

"Sorry," his father quickly said in response to his reaction. "How're you feeling?"

He only nodded in response, something he did often. He found that when he had so much to talk about, he began to feel flustered, nervous. Then, only a simple nod would make an appearance, because it's all that Elio can muster. If he started to ramble, he would go on senseless tangents and, occasionally bawl his eyes out in the process. 

Elio's father gave him a squeeze on his shoulder before returning inside of the plane, presumably to help his wife with her things. 

Elio saw his mother retrieving the rest of her belongings from the compartments, with his father helping her carry some of it.

Little time had passed until all three of them were officially out of the discomfort of the plane and into the warm California air. Elio took note of the heat, as he began to fan himself with a beaten brochure, used just for this purpose. He also noticed warm droplets of moisture start to make its way down his face, and quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand as he and his parents made their way into the airport. He couldn't tell if the sweat was from his re-occurring nervousness or from the burning heat.

He guessed a combination of both would make anyone sweat like crazy.

* * *

It had been seven years since Elio had last visited the US, and it was only the decently secluded state of Washington as well. Before his father got his job as a professor, he had to go through a series of intellectual training. One of the yearly trainings was located in Seattle, the most popular city in Washington. Elio had only experienced the temporary lifestyle of Seattle at twelve and thirteen years old, so he had not been able to recall the memories with total accuracy.

Grateful for the invention of taxis, they'd stopped by a local restaurant, Mikael's Burger Shack. Elio found it odd that it would be considered a restaurant, as it hadn't shown any aspects of quietness or classiness in general, like the food restaurants that he was used to dining at in Italy. When he and his parents entered, they were met with even more chatter from the Americans seated at many different tables, munching on what he assumed to be hamburgers.

Elio didn't mind the differences at all, in fact, it piqued his interest.

He and his mother let Mr. Perlman do the ordering, as he had more American experience than either of them, and they moved to sit down at the most secluded table they could find, which was located at a quiet corner of the burger joint.

"You okay with eating hamburgers?" His mother asked as she removed her sunglasses and sunhat.

"Sí," he assured her, following her actions by removing his own glasses, blinking a couple times in an attempt to get used to the new light. "Although, I haven't had one in many years."

"I remember," his mother smiled as she reminisced. "You were about twelve when you had your first hamburger, ah, I wish I had taken a picture, your face was smothered with ketchup!" He lightheartedly scowled in response.

"I really doubt I'd be that careless about my skin," he responded, shuddering at the thought of his re-occurring problems with acne during his younger teenage years.

"Yeah, well, it seemed like you didn't have a care in the world when you were a little boy," she had said solemnly. "You seemed to be.. happier,  _contento_." Elio tilted his head.

 _"Cosa vuoi dire con questo?"_ He had asked, confused.

Before she could respond with anything, their father came to the table, a tray of a variety of burgers.

The scent of the food distracted him of any former thoughts, and they began to eat. The only thought that popped into Elio's mind at this point: _"are American food portions really this massive?"_

* * *

Nancy, who had called them initially, wanted to make sure that they landed in good condition. She reminded them of the address in which she and Oliver shared, and Mrs. Perlman made sure to recite it exactly as Nancy had said to their taxi driver.

Elio's father had asked Nancy if Oliver was there, she replied that he was at work, and would be there to see them a little over two hours after they'd have settled in.

Which then sparked a new question among the Perlman's; what was Oliver's job?

"Business marketer," Nancy had responded. "He has a lot of charm in his personality, as I'm sure you know, so successful marketing must be a breeze for him." Elio noted of her soft voice. She spoke with a smoothness and delicacy that he had never been met with before. Was this speaking tone common among American women?

It struck weird for Elio. Nancy, with a voice lighter than air and Oliver, with a voice thicker and deeper than gravel. It really fed into the common idea of opposites attracting, like two people of the opposite gender.

 _No judgment_ , he reassured himself. 

Of course, the idea of sexuality hadn't been something Elio confronted personally. 

So in essence, he hasn't touched another man in three years.

The idea of being with another guy had terrified Elio since Oliver left. It was fortunate that Elio's parents were people who didn't have any sense of judgment in their personality. It was unfortunate that a lot of the people that the Perlman's associate themselves with did not share this same trait.

The support from his parents was not enough for him to truly express his love interests.

Being a teenager was a reason in which Elio had been able to act as boldly and also carelessly in his attempts at seducing Oliver. The most memorable being the way he grabbed at Oliver's groin at the mountain lake, Elio's favorite place to be.

Well- it used to be. He never went there again ever since Oliver left.

Teenagers are.. naive. Elio knew this.

Elio was drawn back to harsh reality with a poke from his mother's finger. He turned from his gaze out the window, and turned to look at her. He was met with two looks of expectancy as both his parents held the phone towards him. Dumbfounded, he shrugged, unsure of what they wanted him to do. His mother gave him a pointed look and placed the phone to her ear.

"We'll see you very soon, Nancy," his mother responded through the phone. "Thank you so much for this opportunity."

Eventually, they both hung up.

And so they set off to Peach Valley Drive. Elio took the time to admire the scenery of-

"What is this state again?" He had asked, mind too clouded with a variety of different thoughts. "California, yes?" His father nodded as he stared ahead, trying his hardest to stay awake. Elio frowned at this. He knew his father hadn't slept, not even on the plane, and took note of his exhaustion.

He directed his attention out of the window again. He was thankful for that the car was riding on smooth roads, and not rough gravel. He already didn't feel too spectacular, so a bumpy ride would ensure a sickening journey, accompanied by vomit.

He noted of the many shops that stood side to side, all of them managing to be necessary for hot weather. He found himself light up when a relatively small building in between an ice cream shack and a Mexican restaurant happened to be a bookstore. He was glad to know that there would be resources for literature around here. He did bring his own, but it was nice to have more options.

They were leaving the square, and were heading towards a less populated area of the town. Down the road, Elio noted of all the greenery that surrounded them. The trees had the same structure and color as many of the fruit trees that resided at his own home in Italy. Further down the road, the trees started to gain an orange tinge. Elio squinted closer. His mother spoke up before he could mention it.

"Look at all the peach trees," she murmured. Mr. Perlman nodded in astonishment as well.

"Guess they don't call it Peach Valley for nothing, hmm?" Mr. Perlman asked, retreating back to his sitting position in an attempt to relax.

Elio started to redden, unable to act normal around anything related to the bright fruit.

Soon they passed the peach trees, and then it was just more greenery. Elio tried every method in the book to maintain himself, to calm himself down. Deep breaths and muscle relaxation initially. It seemed to work for the most part, however, his anxiety stimulated when the taxi driver had announced that they'd be arriving in just a couple of minutes.

Instinctively, he brought his thumbnail up to his mouth and started to bite at it. He trembled and he tapped his foot on the floor of the car repeatedly, yet quietly. He focused on the trees that stood in the bright rays of the sun. His throat soon became dry and he started to sweat.

"E-excuse me?" He hesitantly asked the driver, wiping some sweat off of his forehead. "Can I roll down the window?"

"Yeah!" The driver had said as he re-adjusted his sunglasses. "You don't usually have to ask, I'm surprised you guys haven't rolled 'em down yet."

His father was dozing off, and didn't really care for the heat. His mother, on the other hand, gave Elio a thankful look as she started to roll down her window, Elio following in sync soon after.

Elio gave a sigh of relief, feeling the cool breeze that wooshed in the car as soon as the window came down. He rested his elbow on the windowpane and put his face in his hand. However, something did catch his attention. He sat up and stared farther out into the vast outdoors and noticed a sharp left turn that led down a path. A sign had stood next to the path that said  _Montelaro Beach._ Elio didn't get to see what the beach had looked like, for they quickly passed it as the car continued to lurch forward.

His mother fetched a small container of sunscreen and squeezed some of the product onto her hand, as she applied it to her husband's neck, who had it fully exposed to her as he was leaning on the other side of her on Elio's shoulder.

Elio grasped the container from her hand and lathered himself in it as well. He sat back in his seat after returning the bottle to his mother's purse.

Elio felt the car turn right, and he took the time to look up from his gaze on the car floor. They were now traveling on a dirt road, only patches of grass accompanying them on either side. In the distance, he saw a house directly ahead of them, yet it was still quite some ways forward so he couldn't really identify much, other than it was a dark yellow and seemingly tall house.

The more they approached, the more Elio was able to identify the home. The first thing he noticed was the bright sky blue car that was parked in the driveway. It was odd to Elio, a bright blue car paired with an unlively yellow home to accompany it. He didn't think that the car was out of place, he just thought that the colors didn't combine well. He then took note of the house itself.

The house covered a lot of ground, which didn't seem much of a problem as the house was located decently far in the countryside, and had a ton of opportunity for self-building without the worry of taking up land from their neighbors.

Speaking of neighbors, they seemed to have none.

From where Elio could see in his position in the car, the house was more of a cabin, but not at all small. The logs showed of a yellow tinge, and Elio confirmed that the cabin must have been made with mainly yellow pine logs, which was known for its strength and durability.

There was an abundance of windows placed in the front of the home, and they could have very much seen inside if it weren't for the black curtains. On the house's left, he saw the front yard being used to its fullest, with a sizeable cabana-like structure. Elio wondered if Oliver is the one who built it.

Soon, the car had come to a sudden stop.

The abrupt stop woke up Mr. Perlman from his nap. Mrs. Perlman offered him water and he gratefully accepted it.

"Well, this is your stop," the taxi driver had said. "I'll help you with your bags, though."

They all gave thanks as they quickly proceeded to exit the car, feeling the need to remove themselves from the tight space.

After his usual stretches, Elio went to the trunk of the taxi to help the driver unload their bags. His parents were talking amongst themselves, admiring how beautiful the house had looked. While unpacking the bags, he heard his mother call out.

"Hello!" His mother had called out, excitement evident in her voice. Elio looked up and saw a woman approach them as she descended the house steps. She had a wide smile on her face and was striding quickly to his parents.

The woman who he presumed to be Nancy had only waved and continued forward to meet the Perlman family. Her visual was pleasing to the average eye, as she wore a light blue sundress with pale white linings and pastel-colorful floral embroideries. Her light brown hair was down and curled, and her skin was light but had its fair share of the sun.

When she got to them, the Perlman's were expecting just handshakes and maybe hugs, as this was a common greeting among the American population. However, Nancy put a finger up.

"Hold on," she said. "I've been practicing the greeting." The parents laughed as she went to Mr. Perlman first and immediately was unsure where to put her hands. She left them at her sides awkwardly as she kissed both of his cheeks, starting with the left one and then moving to his right. She visibly reddened and had a cheeky smile on her face as she moved to Mrs. Perlman then, doing the same.

She retreats for a couple seconds.

"Oh, forget it," she said as she gathered them both in a hug. They returned it, and the three embraced.

Elio, who had been helping unpack their luggage, started to approach Nancy as well, as she was conversing with his parents. He wiped his forehead as sweat began to roll, and blinked rapidly in an attempt to calm himself down. He didn't know why he was feeling nervous. No, not even nervous. Every step he took felt heavier and heavier, and he was almost on the verge of passing out. Nervousness was nothing compared to that feeling.

When Nancy saw him approach, she had asked his mother if he was Elio. When his mother confirmed, Nancy squealed and rushed to meet him. Elio's brows rose in surprise as she embraced him in a firm hug, in which he returned hesitantly.

"Elio, Elio!" Nancy had said, like a lovely chant. "It's so nice to meet you!" Elio smiled almost cheekily, overwhelmed by the excessive friendliness even he wasn't used to. He liked it though, it made him feel more comfortable.

"Hi Nancy," he responded back, showing a smile.

And just like that, in an instant, the Perlman's were able to get along greatly with Nancy. They found her to be very welcoming, and nothing but kind and sincere. She had asked them about the dreaded flight, the car ride, and asked if they had eaten, to which they responded that they have.

After Mr. Perlman had thanked the driver and paid him, Nancy led them towards her home.

"The exterior looks lovely," Mrs. Perlman noted as they came close to the staircase. They walked up the stairs as Nancy continued to respond.

"I tell Oli that all the time," Nancy then said, lifting a flower pot to the left of the front door and retrieving a key. "Makes him feel better every time, as he did spend many, many months to build it." Elio had widened his eyes at this.

"He built this whole house?" He asked in awe, taking another quick look at it's exterior again. Nancy nodded and grinned.

"He's good isn't he?" She asked simply as she turned the key into the lock and opened the door. "Huzzah!"

Mr. Perlman chuckled at her playfulness and led them all inside first. Elio entered behind and inspected the interior. The quality of the outside of the home matched the inside as well. There was a long set of stairs to their right that led to the second floor of the home, and was made with an exotic burgundy-like wood. Elio figured it to be heart pine. There was a hallway straight ahead of them, with many doorways accompanying either side.

From their stance at the entrance, to their left was another doorway, in which led to the kitchen from what Elio could see. To the right was a room with a big rectangular table, most likely for dining. Above their heads hung a chandelier, which showed much elegance as it lit up the entire hallway and upstairs floor. It seemed to be made of crystals and glass, and it looked shiny and new.

"Everything looks so polished," his mother had said.

And so they had settled in. Nancy decided that a house tour would be better if Oliver was there as well, so it would have to wait, in which the Perlman's had no problem with. Nancy led the trio up the stairs, and on the second floor was two bedrooms and a bathroom, the bathroom being in between the two rooms. She had stopped by the first room, to the right of the bathroom.

"This will be the parent's room," she declared as she opened it. In the room revealed a large bed, covered with a pure white sheet and a large purple blanket folded on the top. In the middle of the room was a TV placed on a table and near the window stood a dresser.

The trio thanked her for about the millionth time.

"It's really no problem," she said, giddy still evident in her voice. "But please, rest. Oliver won't be here until 9 and it is currently..." She paused as she looked over Mr. Perlman's tall frame in order to see the clock that resided at the end of the hallway. "6:38"

In an instant, Mr. Perlman had entered the guest room he and Mrs. Perlman would be staying in. Nancy giggled at the abrupt leaving and Mrs. Perlman apologized, and told her he was very tired. Elio peeked inside the room and already found his father fast asleep on the bed. It reminded him of Oliver's first day at their home, who had collapsed on the bed as soon as he entered the room. Mrs. Perlman thanked her one last time as she descended into their new room and lightly closed the door.

Nancy beckoned Elio to follow her as they walked to the other end of the hallway, where he would be sleeping.

"The room at this end of the hall was ours," Nancy mentioned. "We thought it'd be better for the three of you to have rooms near each other though, yeah?" Elio only nodded as they came to a stop. Nancy opened the door, letting Elio enter it, her following behind.

The room shocked Elio, to say the least.

He found the room to have perfectly resembled the same room Oliver had slept in at their home in Italy. To the left was a decently sized bed, same white sheets and blankets, a desk that stood in front of the window, the dresser placed near the bed. The structure of the room had been eerily similar to the same room that Oliver had stayed in three years ago, but it was the posters on the wall that had shocked him.

It took him back three years, when Elio had attempted to wake Oliver up for his first dinner. He remembered seeing many posters of different American traditions and people. There was a Lemans car race poster, as well as a Peter Gabriel poster, an American musician who was famous for his singing.

Standing in that room, he saw the same posters again.

"Everything alright?" Nancy asked behind him. Elio nodded his head.

"Yes," he confirmed, trying to focus. "It looks lovely, thank you."

Nancy grinned.

"I'm so excited to show you guys around," she had said, tapping her chin. "Not just here, but all around California. I'm sure it's not as nice as Italy, but it's nice here too nonetheless."

"Have you visited Italy?" He had asked, a brow raised in curiosity. Nancy shook her head, pouting.

"I haven't," she confirmed. "I've seen catalogs and pictures of Italy, and it looks so beautiful. And when Oliver and I used to date he would talk about his experience in Italy all the time, I was so envious."

"What did he talk about?" He asked her then, curiosity piquing even further.

"Talked about you three mostly," she had said. "How nice you all were and how nice the people in Italy were in general. He also emphasized on the beautiful visuals, like the buildings and the monuments that he went to see."

She sighed. "It sounds like a dreamland."

With that, they concluded their conversation, and she left him in the room to rest and unpack his things.

* * *

He was starting to pile his clothing into a drawer when he heard a ding. Instinctively, he moved towards the window and peeked outside. His gaze moved to the front door and there he saw someone. A man to be more specific. Elio hid further under the windowpane as he knew for a fact that it was Oliver. He slowly lifted his head as he started to peek again.

He looked burly, and was at a tall height. His hair color was hard to identify with the darkness outside, but the light on the porch helped show that he had a dirty blonde hair color. He had stubble on his face which really completed his look. Overall, he was well groomed. Devilishly handsome as well.

He held a bottle of, what seemed to be an alcoholic drink, and also wore a dark gray suit, with a nice black tie and pinstripe pants, making him look very striking. Elio had never seen Oliver in a suit of any kind before, just shorts and t-shirts. Elio thought he looked completely different than the Oliver he met the first time around.

This Oliver intimidated him, in a way he couldn't identify.

As if on cue, Oliver looked towards the window where Elio had been, but Elio wasn't able to have a look at his face as he had the quick reflexes to duck under the window, not wanting to get caught staring. He stood low for a little until he heard the front door become unlocked and the door open. Elio rushed to his door and leaned his ear on it.

He didn't like to call it eavesdropping, it was more like him wanting to prepare himself.

"Oli!" He heard Nancy greet.

"Hey, honey," He heard Oliver say. Elio didn't know if it was just the walls, or if Oliver's voice really did become deeper than it had already been three years back.

"Hold on, let me get everyone down here," Nancy had said, and soon after, he heard the stairs creak as she began to walk up them. Elio scrambled away from the door and sat on his bed before grabbing at one of his many books he had piled on the nightstand. He pretended to read it until Nancy had knocked on his door before opening it.

"Your friend is here!" She said, beaming. Elio chuckled in complete nervousness as he closed his book. He got up and followed Nancy to the other end of the hallway, where she did the same routinic action by knocking on their door.

"Coming!" Elio heard his father say.

The door opened and his father rubbed his eyes from its sleepiness.

"Oliver's home," she said, grinning. His father's eyes widened and he turned around to inform his wife. With a sound of surprise, Elio's mother had stopped unpacking her things and exited the room as well. Elio felt like his body was on fire.

"Can I," Elio started, having to pause. "Can I use your bathroom?" Nancy, having a look of concern, nodded and pointed to the door the right of them.

"You feeling okay?" She asked genuinely. Elio only nodded as he rushed to it.

He splashed cold water on his face as he took a couple of breathers. He didn't feel ready.

* * *

Oliver needed a few moments to properly breathe as he watched Nancy descend up the steps. He couldn't see anything upstairs, and he had been clenching the bottle of champagne in his hand so hard he was afraid of smashing it just in his own grasp.

_Act cool, act cool._

Oliver knew better to not drink when the Perlman's were here. He justified the champagne though, reassuring himself that it was a drink for celebration, not a drink for his common pity parties.

He saw Nancy come back down the stairs, and he grinned at her happy mood. He liked that she was as happy as he was with this plan. Even when Nancy had never met the Perlman's, she was all for letting them settle into their home. She was the kindest soul he'd ever met, it's one of the many reasons why his attraction to her was abundant.

She waved at him.

"Here they are," She said. "Elio is in the bathroom I believe, he'll be out soon."

Oliver tried his hardest not to look concerned, even though he already did feel worried for Elio.

"Is he okay?" He asked. His parents only nodded in response.

"I'll finish cooking dinner while you guys catch up!" Nancy said happily as she stepped all the way down and left towards the kitchen after giving Oliver a quick peck on the cheek, which made Oliver grin. He handed her the bottle of champagne to place in the kitchen as well, and she did.

Oliver was shocked at how little Mr. and Mrs. Perlman had changed in terms of appearance. He grinned wider as he pulled Mr. Perlman in a hug first, patting his back in the process as well. He then gave Mrs. Perlman a hug as well.

"Look at you!" Mrs. Perlman had exclaimed. "You've only gotten more and more handsome." Oliver continued to smile cheekily.

"Thank you, thank you," he said simply, still wanting someone else to come down those stairs. "Did you guys get here alright?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Perlman responded. "The flight was a little uncomfortable, but it was nothing we couldn't handle."

"Have you eaten yet?" Oliver asked them.

"Not since we landed," Mrs. Perlman responded.

"Well Nancy is an amazing cook," Oliver had said, chuckling. "As much as I don't like to admit it. Food should be ready real soon."

Before anyone could exchange another word, Oliver saw movement at the top of the staircase. He looked towards the sound and that's when he saw him.

Again, Oliver was shocked at how little the Perlman's appearance had changed. Elio still had his hair in curls, and he still stood at a relatively small height of 5'9. His skin was still of a porcelain white, and he still wore his usual apparel of an over-sized sweater and shorts, which in America, some would deem to be too short. Oliver didn't mind it though, not at all.

He quickly moved his gaze from his shorts to his face and smiled from ear to ear.

"Elio!" He greeted fairly loudly. Elio only gave a small wave as he moved down the steps painfully slowly. Oliver stood patiently, waiting for him to come down.

When Elio did reach the bottom, Oliver went for a large hug, and embraced Elio in his arms, in which Elio gingerly returned. It reminded Oliver of the day he had left him at the train station, where they hugged for an eternity, and when Elio had pulled him back for another hug right afterwards.

He felt Elio's heartbeat onto him, but Oliver didn't mind. In fact, Oliver's heart was pounding as well, it wouldn't be surprising if Elio felt it also. Oliver gave Elio's back one last circular motion rub as they retracted from each other. Oliver wished the hug would last just a little longer, but he didn't want to show any favoritism of any Perlman family member.

Little did he know, Mr. and Mrs. Perlman were very much expecting him to favor their son.

"Hi, Oliver," Elio said simply, face in a blushed manner. His parents had just stood on the side, watching the both of them carefully. They weren't concerned at all, they were just curious about how they would interact after they had put their friendship on hiatus for over three years.

"How have you been?" Oliver asked quietly, focus solely on him.

"I've been good, very good," he responded, voice a bit hushed. Oliver concluded that he must've felt shy, and again, he understood why.

"Well, why don't we all sit down?" Oliver asked as he led the trio through the hallway ahead of them and into the living room. He was glad that he made this room spacious when he built the home, there was nothing that he didn't dislike more than tight spaces, especially since the Perlman's were probably used to big rooms anyway.

Oliver approached the fireplace and tossed another log in, wanting the place to feel warm. When he turned, he saw the Perlman's standing, unsure where to sit. Oliver chuckled and gestured to the sofa to their right.

"You don't need my permission to sit, you know," Oliver joked as he sat across from them on a wooden chair. The three settled in as well on the sofa across from him.

They had talked about their professions, most of which hadn't changed other than Oliver. Elio's father was still a professor, and his mother had become a real estate agent. Elio found it hard to talk about his own accomplishments so far, as his parents had been talking about their own as well as asking Oliver about his own.

"So you're going to college Elio?" Oliver asked then, gazing at him. Elio jumped slightly as he looked up to meet his gaze, surprised he asked him something directly.

"Y-yeah," he said, trying his hardest not to look nervous. Oliver noticed it, he noticed everything about Elio. Even after all the years they'd been apart.

"You told me on the phone, it was the piano and acting right?" Oliver asked incredulously. Elio started to turn redder as he nodded.

"Well, I did kind've lie there," he admitted. "I meant to just say that I'm enrolled in Performing Arts, which they do sometimes have me perform a bunch of visual and instrumental presentation. Some of it is acting segments." Oliver stared at him in awe.

"That's really impressive," he said simply. He watched Elio as he looked down at his lap. Hadn't it been for the smile on his face, Oliver would have thought that he made Elio uncomfortable.

Soon after they'd talked more and more about Elio's interests and his "plan for the future" as his mother called it, Nancy had announced that dinner would be served in the dining room. The Perlman's got up and filed towards their bathroom in the hallway to wash their hands before eating. Oliver, behind Elio, placed a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his place as his parents continued forward. Elio froze in his spot, and turned to look up at him.

"I'm really proud of you," Oliver whispered close to his ear, having to lean down to his small frame.

Some silence takes place between the two of them before Elio finally responded.

"Thank you, Oliver," he said in a hushed voice as he beamed up at him. Oliver smiled for the thousandth time that night. He started to massage the shoulder his hand was on. Elio blushed as he gasped at the sudden movement. In an instant, he retracted his hand.

"Sorry," he said ashamed. Elio assured him that it was okay, and he quickly left to wash his hands.

Oliver looked down at his hand.

"Culprit," he muttered before following behind Elio.

* * *

 

It was the first dinner that the Perlman's had with Nancy and Oliver together, but it felt nothing like it. They all talked, as if in harmony, and they all felt comfortable around each other. Nancy had been wonderful to the Perlman's making sure that they felt comfortable and that they ate well.

"It's delicious," Elio complimented as he continued to dig in to her casserole.

"Thank you, Elio," she said grinning. "It's a family recipe, Oliver has tried to make it a thousand times, and there was always a different error every time."

"Not the best cook," Oliver confirmed as he pointed to himself. He then excused himself before kissing Nancy on the lips and leaving towards the kitchen. He came back with five glasses in his hand, able to balance them easily. He placed each glass in front of them. He started with his own, then Nancy's who sat beside him, and then moved to the other side and placed a glass in front of Elio's parents.

"Do you drink?" Oliver had asked Elio when he reached his side of the table.

"Sure," Elio said simply, returning his look. Oliver smirked and placed a glass in front of him as well. He then retrieved the bottle of champagne that sat in the middle of the table and poured some of the liquid into each of their cups with delicacy. Afterwards, he had sat back down in his original spot.

"How about a cheers, huh?" Oliver said, with high optimism.

Oliver felt satisfaction when he heard the loud clink of their glasses. He stole another glance at Elio, something he had been doing often that night. Elio had just taken a tiny sip, and Oliver fought the urge to lightly tease him. Instead, Oliver only smirked at him again as he took a longer sip of his own champagne.

* * *

The clock struck 12AM, and everyone had been asleep. Well, almost everyone.

Oliver had laid on his back, one arm behind his head and the other wrapped around Nancy, who had comfortably snuggled into his side. Sleep hadn't been a major problem for him until the past few weeks. Knowing Elio was coming had put him in a restless mood, and now that he was actually here, heightened that feeling even further.

It was at this moment when the dream would occur. Oliver had already re-familiarized himself with Elio and his parents at that point and felt a sense of authenticity that radiated off of them. Differences of culture aside, Oliver felt he had truly been able to adapt once again.

Elio.

He gave a low groan as he closed his eyes again, trying to keep a straight mind.

Elio, Elio.

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the fact that Elio was just above them. How he could hear his every movement from just down there. At that moment, he wished he made the floors and walls thicker. He could practically hear Elio’s sweet sounds of light snores and soft moans if he concentrated hard enough.

And just like that, he concentrated on just the sounds that Elio had produced as he continued to lie down. He bared his teeth as he felt his pajama pants stir.

Elio, Elio, Elio.

The boy who radiated passion, yet found little opportunities to truly express it. The boy who often showed naivety, yet sophistication at the same time. It was complicated in this aspect, and that's one of the many things about Elio that always drew Oliver in. Elio left trails of fascination and interest that Oliver had followed. Elio wasn't like any other boy that Oliver had met in his lifetime, not by a long shot.

He looked at Elio in a different light, a light that he had yet to discover until he first arrived at the Perlman's home.

It was an odd feeling of attraction, something he'd felt with many women in his lifetime.

That's why he was so confused. And why he felt the overwhelming feeling of shame. Especially since the one he’s loved for the past two years and the one he’s going to marry is right beside him, sleeping next to him.

He laid on his bed, unable to get the image of Elio out of his mind. The boy drove him absolutely crazy.

Oliver closed his eyes, hoping to stop them from its constant twitching. The exhausting day drained his energy, and he only wanted to relax for the night. Unfortunately for him, it wasn't that simple.

He found himself dreaming of the day he had went through years ago when he had first arrived at the Perlman household, as he spiked the volleyball with ease and watched his competitors struggle. He recalled the moment he strode towards Elio, how he grabbed the water in Elio's hand aggressively before returning it back to him after taking a long swig. He remembered seeing Elio start to walk away, and Oliver remembered himself catching up to him before Elio could do so. He placed his hand on Elio's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. Elio didn't turn to look at him, as he stood still, almost like a statue.

Oliver noted that his body seemed tough. Tense, he'd say. Oliver scowled as he started to feel Elio attempt to pull away again. He reached his hands around the boy's frame, placing them on both of his hips, telling him to wait. He rubbed his hands together before placing them back onto Elio's body, but this time on his shoulders. He then started to massage.

He felt Elio's desire to leave again, as he started to lean forward, but Oliver pulled him right back, telling him to relax, this time more sternly.

Oliver's hands were firm against Elio's body, which felt warm from the sun's rays, and a little damp from his sweat. He pushed his hands into the tender, exposed flesh, massaging Elio's body with his technique of precision. Oliver grinned in satisfaction, feeling almost malicious, as he heard the gasp of pleasure escape Elio's mouth when Oliver pressed into his shoulder blade, feeling the tension. He deepened the movements of his hands, pressing further. He knew not to pinch too hard to the point where the massage would be painful.

Oliver paused for a moment, asking Elio if this was okay, and wondered if Elio was in any pain.

Elio only whined in response, longing for Oliver's hands back on him. Brows raised in sudden surprise, Oliver continued.

He felt his neck, his shoulders, and the subtleness of muscle on his biceps. Oliver found his hands traveling farther down, slowly dragging, the immorality of it all slowing his movement down. His nails dug into Elio's skin, marking it with the traces and patterns that his fingertips had delicately, yet harshly carved.

He explored new parts of his body that he hadn't even had the chance to think of. He felt the roughness of his sides, the curve of his hips, and then the lower part of Elio’s stomach. it all felt too real for Oliver to bear.

He heard Elio chant, heard him beg.

“More,” he had heard Elio say breathlessly.

“What are you waiting for?” Elio continued.

And then Oliver woke up.

Oliver opened his eyes wide, and quickly looked over to the clock that stood on their nightstand, disappointed that it had only progressed two hours. He unraveled himself from Nancy and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his eyes. His arousal was at an all time high, and he growled at the stiffness of his pajama pants, in annoyance and shame once again. He felt the adrenaline rush through his body, and the hardness of his erection start to heighten.

Taking a drink of water, he lied back down, eyes open and stared out the window.


	4. Part IV: Kitchen Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a dark turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry guys, but this chapter MIGHT BE temporary.
> 
> I'm really tired and there might be mistakes in the writing.
> 
> Overall I might just delete this chapter and start another one that isn't so dark and messed up.
> 
> Depends.

Oliver's jaw sharpened as he clenched his teeth in frustration, still unable to drift into a slumber as the clock progressed circa 3 AM. He scratched at his arms in an attempt to distract his instincts.

He had two main urges in mind, both in which he wanted to act upon.

One of them was sustaining his daily dose of liquor. Oliver was never good with any sort withdrawal. He found that he couldn't go a couple hours without a taste of any sort of alcoholic drink or he would start to have headaches and his whole body would shake, sometimes uncontrollably. Nancy knew of this, and despite her constant effort to stop her fiancé from the addiction, she still tried her best to make sure he was okay when he was in a bad condition.

The other urge of his was Elio, to see him in person, for it already felt far too long since they had bid farewell for that night. He wanted to see Elio again. He wanted to feel nostalgic, wanted to re-live the moments they made in Italy. Staying up late during the summer nights, feeling his body on Elio's.

He shook his head as his mind started to wander further into a pit of insanity and sin.

He shifted his gaze from the bedroom ceiling and glanced over at Nancy, who's back was turned to him. Her body moved up and down, as she slept peacefully beside him.

She would understand. Even when she did know of his early morning drinking sessions, she still understood that he couldn't just quit cold turkey.

_Nancy, Nancy, Nancy._

Oliver knew he was lucky to have met someone as radiant as Nancy.

When they first met, she instantly felt concern for Oliver. Although she majored in psychology, it was very obvious for anyone to see that Oliver looked and felt completely distraught when he returned to his home country, as he had just withdrawn himself from Elio. He had isolated himself from society for as long as a month before he scouted around to apply for a job. Employment was fairly easy for Oliver. He had the charming looks, the education, and the willpower.

They had their first encounter outside of the marketing company where Oliver worked, he was a month or two into his job and was rumored to be getting a raise. It was pouring rain on a dark Monday night and Nancy was unfortunate enough to experience her old car break down, all she knew about her car was that the motor was dysfunctional. It only took about two minutes for help to approach her, thankfully Oliver had worked a later shift. Oliver helped move her car inside of his company's parking lot after he introduced himself.

Oliver noted that the conditions of the night were too harsh for him to be able to thoroughly look at her car's motor, and let her keep her car in the parking lot, reassuring her that he'd make sure no one would tow it away. She asked him how she would be getting home, in which Oliver offered her a ride.

Nancy knew of stranger danger, but went with him anyway, now learning that Oliver did work at the company and did not seem at all dangerous. She was instead distracted by his rugged attractiveness.

From that point on, they were somewhat in love.

Oliver leaned over to her side of the bed and planted a subtle kiss on her cheek, to which she responded with a low mumble.

"Love you," she said sleepily, back still turned to him. Oliver nuzzled the crook her neck slowly.

"Love you more," he murmured.

Oliver had developed a deep feeling of guilt in his recent years. His situation wouldn't deem him to be a saint in the eyes of anyone. He's an alcoholic of three years, and still has nearly uncontrollable feelings towards someone he'd still consider to be a boy, despite being the age of 20.

He knew of what he told Nancy about Elio, that he was just the son of Mr. Perlman. No mentions of any chemistry that they shared, or the nights they shared together. As of right then, Nancy was completely unaware that Oliver was going crazy just thinking about him.

Head pounding, body shaking, and a bitter taste forming in his mouth, he knew what to do.

Oliver stayed completely silent, only hearing the soft snores of his lover fill the room. He laid back in his original spot and continued to look at Nancy's sleeping body for only a minute longer until he made his move to sit up.

Moving with complete stealth, Oliver swung his legs and placed his feet on the wood floor beneath them.

He moved carefully, making sure not to wake her. Other than a slight creak of their old bed, no other noise was made, in which Oliver felt grateful. He stood up and took one last longing look at Nancy before carefully exiting the room.

* * *

Elio was finally starting to get into a rhythmic snoring routine when he felt rough hands shake him gently by the arm. It took Elio a couple of seconds to process the touch, but when he felt the hands again, he was fully alert. His heart starts to pound against his chest as he slowly opens his eyes to reveal Oliver, who was wearing nothing but a pair of trousers and a tight-fitting shirt. Oliver's eyes weren't recognizable, Elio noted. They were big, and they just stared at him. It was as if they were clouded with something, something that Elio couldn't identify.

Elio, nervous system throttled, sat up after turning on the lamp, which lit up the room. He tried his best to regain proper vision but everything was blurry to him. The walls seemed to be melting and the only thing clear in his eyes was Oliver himself.

Elio laid his back and head against his bed frame as he looked at Oliver in confusion.

"Sorry, did I scare you?" Oliver asked him quietly, eyes still solely fixed on him. Elio instinctively shook his head.

"You don't scare me," Elio said. He saw Oliver's face move into a smirk.

"I'd hope not," he simply responded. Elio noticed that Oliver was moving closer to his bed. Elio scratched his head, still confused.

"Why are you in here?" Elio asked before lifting his wrist to check the time. He looked down towards it, his face turning sour as he couldn't concentrate enough to process the time displayed. Before he could rub his eyes, possibly to get rid of it's sleepiness, he felt a touch just below his chin. Oliver's finger felt hot against the skin of his chin, and Elio let out a struggled breath as he felt it lift his chin up. He didn't know why, but he avoided eye contact with Oliver.

"Look at me," Oliver softly commanded, disliking the choice he'd made. Elio's gaze traveled to him obediently.

"Still as beautiful as I remember.." Oliver continued, clouded eyes gazing longingly at him. His hand started to move lower, brushing Elio's neck and collarbone.

"Oliver, what-?" Elio started to ask, until he felt Oliver's hands suddenly swoop underneath his shirt, and start to caress his chest and hips. He let out a gasp in the sudden movement.

"Look at you," Oliver then said, leaned up close to Elio's ear. "Still wearing that shirt of mine, huh?"

He looked down at his torso in disbelief, not remembering the moment when he put it on.

"Don't be ashamed of it," he continued, as he forcefully grabbed both sides of the shirt and ripped them apart from each other, ripping the material off of Elio's body. "I love how loyal you are for me."

Elio felt chills overwhelm him as Oliver's hushed voice continued to whisper in his ear. He bit his lip to prevent any noise that might come out of his mouth. He felt his lip nearing the bleeding phase when he felt Oliver's rough hands suddenly move to his upper chest, fondling his nipples.

Elio suddenly grabbed hold of the nightstand beside him, bracing himself as his ear suddenly felt a new sensation of wet warmth. He disintegrated under Oliver's touch as Oliver began to nibble on his ear, and Oliver's hands went for the waistband of his sleeping shorts.

With a cold sweat on his forehead and a shortage of breath, Elio woke up. He shot up from his sleeping position and looked around the room, noting of the still-dark atmosphere. Looking at his watch, thankful that he could read it, showed 3:22AM. Elio groaned in frustration as he noticed an empty water glass beside him. He grabbed it with hesitance as he looked at his closed door, debating whether or not an early morning trip to Oliver and Nancy's kitchen was worth a glass of water.

He wiped his forehead of the excess sweat and lifted his hand towards his ear, where Oliver had essentially marked it. He was met with a burning sensation, but nothing that would indicate that he didn't dream anything that happened within the past ten or so minutes. He looked down towards his shirt, and was shocked to find out that it wasn't the button-up that Oliver had given him before.

He shook his head as he stood up from his bed. He stretched a few of his limbs before slowly making his way out of his room, towards the kitchen.

Elio tried his best to move as nimble as he possibly could, using his hands as a guide, gliding them on the walls beside him in order to not fall and cause commotion. The last thing he wanted was to wake Nancy and Oliver because of his clumsiness.

He turned right, and walked down the stairs with care, trying his best not to make them creak. He reached the bottom of the staircase with slight satisfaction as he proceeded to make his way through the hallway and into the kitchen.

With the light of the moon shining in the kitchen window, it would be impossible for Elio to not notice the silhouette sitting at the kitchen table. The figure's back was turned to Elio as their legs were propped up on the wooden table, and they seemed to be occupied with the glass in their hand as they just stared out the window.

Elio, with his lack of self control, let out a shriek of surprise.

It startled the silhouette obviously, and he turned around to look at the sudden noise. Elio was able to get a look at the person's face right then.

"Oliver?" Elio asked, still shaken.

Oliver's facial expression turned from dull to disbelief in a matter of seconds.

"Elio?" Oliver asked in response, mouth agape as he found himself at a loss for words.

Elio also seemed to be speechless, as they spent the next minute staring either at each other very briefly, or at certain corners of the kitchen, avoiding eye contact.

Elio was the one to break the silence.

"Scotch?" he asked simply, eyes directed at the bottle of whiskey on the table beside Oliver. Oliver grimaced in response.

"Are you really surprised?" Oliver asked, voice resembling gravel. "I thought you knew about.. this." He said as he gestured to his glass on the table, halfway filled with Scotch.

Elio, as much as he wanted to be helpful, didn't know what to say.

"I did know," Elio said, choking on his own few words. "I just thought that maybe-"

"That I stopped?" Oliver asked suddenly, narrowing his eyes towards Elio.

"Not totally stopped," Elio tried to convey. "I.. I don't know."

Oliver let out a mocking chuckle, and Elio felt like shrinking into the wall beside him.

"It's naive to think that I could suddenly just stop, Elio," he rambled as he took another swig from his glass. "I thought you were smarter than that."

Elio bit his lip as he felt hurt by what Oliver said. With great hesitance, he retrieved a chair from across the kitchen and moved it over to near where Oliver was sitting, and sat down beside him.

"I'm sorry," he started to say, trying his best to maintain eye contact with his former lover. "I shouldn't have just thought the addiction could just go away, it was foolish thinking on my part and I apologize, Oliver."

"It's alright," he responded with reassurance. "You're alright."

Elio nodded back, looking back at Oliver with concern in his eyes. He then looked to the bottle of Scotch, noting that it was starting to get alarmingly empty. He frowned at seeing this, and grabbed the bottle, much to Oliver's protest.

"Did you drink all of this today?" Elio asked him, voice starting to lose it's power.

"So what, Elio?" Oliver asked, looking defeated as he rested his head in his hands. "I need it."

"I really don't think you should drink anymore." Elio concluded as he rose from his chair, Oliver glaring at him in the process.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked Elio. He started to become alarmed, and tried to regain his posture as he tried to be rational.

"Please, please," Elio pleaded with him, wanting him to understand how worried he was. "I really don't think you should drink anymore tonight, Oliver, please."

"Don't tell me what to do, Elio," Oliver said, grunting as he struggled to stand. "You're starting to act like Nancy."

Elio let out a sigh and set the bottle on the counter beside him as he moved forward to help Oliver stand.

"If Nancy cares about your health and well-being, then you shouldn't be fighting it." Elio said simply, moving his arms underneath Oliver's in an attempt to support him enough to stand on his own two feet. Oliver brushed him off as soon as he was able to stand.

"Give me the bottle, Elio," Oliver said, in a demanding tone. Elio backed against the counter, in front of the bottle of Scotch he had taken from him. Elio grabbed it and held it in his grasp, not letting go of it.

"Please reconsider this, Oliver." he attempted, feeling his eyes start to water in sadness and fear. Elio didn't know what Oliver was capable of when under the influence, and he started to regret ever taking the whisky away from him.

Oliver inched toward Elio.

"Just give me the damn bottle, Elio," he continued menacingly, in a way that terrified Elio. He wiped a single tear that left his eye and stood his ground.

"Please, please, please," Elio whispered, voice already in a dying mess. Oliver was soon in front of him, so close that Elio could feel his drunken breath on him. He felt strong hands wrap around the bottle he held close to his chest, and a tugging.

Elio didn't know why, but he pulled back from Oliver's force.

Push and shove they both did, Elio wanted Oliver to stop drinking that night while Oliver wanted to finish the bottle that night.

Oliver was able to easily overpower Elio pretty soon into their little quarrel. He used one of his hands to hold onto the bottle's neck, and he used his other hand to forcefully shove Elio back.

Oliver didn't think his drunken force would be so strong, and he felt immediate regret as he saw Elio fly back, and watched his head his the door handle of the fridge. Oliver flinched as he heard Elio wince in pain as he held his own head from the blow.

"Elio?" He asked with sudden concern.

Elio put a hand to his mouth as he started to sob uncontrollably. Before Oliver could do a damned thing, Elio was out of the kitchen in a flash.

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse any mistakes, things that don't exactly make sense, things that sound weird, etc!! I haven't written like, anything, since last summer!! I love writing so much, but I've never had the time or the sorta inspiration to do so until now.
> 
> Anyway, please support by leaving a kudos and all the like, and I'll see you next chapter! :)


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